


when it crumbles (we will stand tall)

by harpers_mirror (SapphireBryony)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Past Allura/Lotor (Voltron), Post-Episode: s06e05 The Black Paladins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 00:09:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17293934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireBryony/pseuds/harpers_mirror
Summary: Had he really thought this would beromantic?Had he really hoped she’d get hurt so he could ride in on a white lion and rescue her?





	when it crumbles (we will stand tall)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set sometime during the events of 6x05 - _The Black Paladins._ I started writing this before watching 6x06 - _All Good Things_ so it’s slightly AU. I love how they handled this equivalent scene in canon, but I liked the beginning of this, the idea of playing with the hurt/comfort trope and how icky that can get when applied to real life. 
> 
> Title from “Skyfall” by Adele.

Lance has thought about this moment a lot, and that’s not exactly something he’s proud of. 

He’s pictured this exact scene dozens of times - Allura realizing Lotor is a no-good evil-doing bad guy and crying over the betrayal before Lance swoops in to make her feel better. In his fantasies, he says all the right things and he hugs her and she tells him that she knows now that he was right all along, that she never should have trusted Lotor who was clearly bad news and not half as manly and awesome as Lance...

It usually devolved from there and there were definitely, well,  _ variations, _ but the basic plot remained the same. She was hurt and he comforted her and they all lived happily ever after, except for Lotor who they shot off into space with a “kick me” sign taped to his back.

Now, with Allura sitting slumped against a wall, face in her hands and shoulders shaking with silent sobs, he feels sick and wants to punch past-Lance in the face.

Had he really thought this would be  _ romantic?  _ Had he really hoped she’d get  _ hurt _ so he could ride in on a white lion and rescue her?

He wants to throw up and hide and never look at her or any of the others again. This wasn’t like the other fantasies, the ones about how gorgeously badass she looked in her armor, or about how her hair might feel between his fingers, or about other, more not-safe-for-work type parts of her.

There had more than a few dreams which had made direct eye contact awkward the next day. But she didn’t get hurt in any of those fantasies. He wasn’t a  _ monster. _

Except here he was, watching Allura cry and all he could think about was his own screwed-up bullshit. She wasn’t just the girl that he kind of obsessed over, she wasn’t just an object of fantasy, she was his  _ friend  _ and he was doing jack shit to help her.

He’d deal with his own crap later. Or, more realistically, he wouldn’t. But right now, she was the priority. No matter what his past self had thought about the matter, she was hurt and he  _ could _ try to fix it.

“Allura?” His voice cracks a little and he clears his throat.

She jerks her head up, hands going to her face to dash away the tear-tracks that shine on her dark skin. “Lance,” she says and just like every time, his stomach flips a little. He loves how her accent rounds the edges off his name. No one else says his name like Allura does.

“Hey.” He’s suddenly at a loss for words, so he slides down the wall to sit beside her, not close enough for their shoulders to touch but close enough that he can reach her.

_ Just like you wanted, right? Close enough to reach out and pull her into your arms and be the manly protector? _

He closes his eyes and swallows hard, banishing the mean little voice. It's a little too accurate for his comfort right now. 

Allura doesn’t seem to notice. Sitting up straighter, her wipes her eyes again and looks embarrassed. “I’m sorry you had to see me in such a state. I’m a mess. I’ll be back in the control room in a moment; I apologize for keeping you waiting.”

“It’s okay,” Lance replies, cutting off her fluttering apologies. “The castle’s still dead in the, uh, space-water... whatever. Anyway, you can take a minute of downtime. Don’t worry about it. The mice and I can manage by ourselves for a sec. Heck, I doubt they even need  _ me." _

Lance knows he’s the rambling one now and pauses. “And you definitely aren’t a mess,” he says, glancing away as he feels a blush heat his cheeks.

Allura laughs quietly, a watery little chuckle. “Thank you, Lance, you’re too kind.”

Guilt swamps him again. If she knew what he’d been thinking at the beginning of this conversation, she’d pick a different adjective. But there’s nothing he can do about that now.

“Only to you, Princess.” He punctuates the statement with a cheesy wink and hates himself a little.

Allura turns and actually looks at him now, considering him solemnly. “That’s hardly true, Lance,” she says. “You throw yourself heart and soul into everything you do. The amount of caring, the amount of love that radiates from you... everyone can see it. Why do you suppose you’re the literal right hand of Voltron? Because the leader needs someone utterly devoted, both to them and to the cause of good.” She reaches out and rests a hand on his cheek. “And you are absolutely that person, Lance. You always have been.”

Lance has forgotten how to breath.

Allura continues. “I wish you could see yourself as others see you.”

He reaches up and rests his hand against hers for a moment, then looks away. “Allura, I...” He clears his throat. “Wow, I suck at this. I came out here to check on you and make sure you were holding up okay, and instead  _ you _ end up comforting me. Sorry about that.” He looks at her through lowered lashes. “But I really appreciate it. You’re basically the best person I know, so that was like, crazy-high praise coming from you.”

She smiles down at him, and the tears are dry now. “I cannot afford to indulge my own grief right now. Later, perhaps. And then I would certainly appreciate a listening ear if you cared to provide one. But right now...” Allura drops her hand from Lance’s cheek and stands. “Now is the time to build each other up and look to the future. If we are to succeed, it is the hope of future good that must fuel us now, not past regrets. I believe in us. In Voltron and the alliance. We’ve been dealt hard blows before and survived. We’ll survive this too.”

She extends a hand to help him to his feet and he takes it, marveling at her strength as she hauls him to his feet. Once he is standing, he gazes at her for a long moment.

“Allura...” Lance trails off, totally unsure of what to say in the face of her eloquent beauty. So instead, he follows his instinct and opens his arms to her and she steps into them, wrapping her own arms tightly around him. His cheek rests against her hair and he closes his eyes, reveling in the moment, in the contact, in the esteem of this amazing person whom fate has thrown into his life. “I believe in us too. All of us. And...” He takes a deep breath. “I would follow you to the ends of the universe if you asked me to.”

He’s unsure if it’s a step too far but what the hell, she had been so open with him that he felt like he owed her nothing but the truth. And as he says it, he feels some of the tight bands of shame around his chest loosen, knowing he’s not saying it to impress her or woo her or get in her pants.

He’s saying it because he believes it with his whole heart. He knew Allura wasn’t wrong when she said that was how he did things - full-throttle, flying by the seat of his pants, and totally based on whatever conviction had seized him at that particular moment. It hadn’t always served him well; various family members, a half-dozen former teachers, and at least one ex had been less than pleased by this tendency.

But Allura apparently saw it as a strength and she was  _ way _ smarter than Lance so who was he to disagree?

He hugs her close a moment longer and then lets her go. Looking down at her, he sees her eyes bright with tears again and quietly starts to panic.

“Oh crap, Allura, I’m sorry, I - ”

She smiles up at him and it’s like seeing the sunrise. “I often find myself astonished,” she says, “at the mysterious ways in which the universe works. And at the depth of goodness and sweetness that exists alongside such overwhelming cruelty and pain.”

“Huh?” Lance asks, utterly lost.

She doesn’t directly answer him but instead reaches out and grasps both of his hands.

“Thank you, Lance,” says Allura. Her voice is soft but emphatic. “Someday you may be called upon to keep that promise you just made me. And on that day I shall feel very lucky to count you among my friends.”

“Anything you need,” Lance replies, equally quietly. He squeezes her hands once before letting her go. “Now let's see what trouble Coran has gotten into. Last I heard, he was telling Hunk to strap him into some kind of harness? That can’t possibly end well, right?”

“Absolutely not,” she answers.

Together, they return to the bridge.


End file.
